


You Get to Me

by Artemisausten



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Assassination Attempt(s), F/M, I mean he's sort of trying to kill alina, Inspired by Romeo and Juliet, Romeo and Juliet References, dark aleksander I guess, i have no idea how to tag this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:28:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28279905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemisausten/pseuds/Artemisausten
Summary: Aleksander Morozova is determined not to love Alina Starkov.He is there for a very specific reason, for a very specific mission, and it’s not to fall in love with Alina Starkov or imagine what it would be like to bed her or hold her, or any of the many, many fantasies that have passed through his mind in the days that he’s camped out in this empty apartment, watching her through a pair of binoculars or sniper scope. Aleksander Morozova is here to execute Alina Starkov, the daughter of his enemy, at the moment of his choosing.________________________Basically, I was playing around with writing an modern AU with a Romeo & Juliet feel and it sort of turned into Aleksander kind of being an assassin and falling for Alina? I don't even know, this just happened. But I weirdly love it.
Relationships: Mal Oretsev/Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova & Alina Starkov, The Darkling | Aleksander Morozova/Alina Starkov
Comments: 13
Kudos: 37





	You Get to Me

**Author's Note:**

> I can't even explain how this happened. I was just tired and playing with the idea of a Romeo & Juliet story like I'd written for A Court of Thorns and Roses, and I somehow wound up here and wanting to write a full story for it.
> 
> But I don't know if I'll post all of it. So, you know, if you read this and actually want more of it, maybe leave me a nice little comment. XD Otherwise, I'll probably write it and just keep it to myself. Because I'm really curious where it'll go now. Or find me on tumblr @artemisausten. Whatever. I should sleep now. I'm so tired.

Aleksander Morozova is determined not to love Alina Starkov.

He’s determined not to watch her walk from room to room, his eyes trailing from her long dark hair to her hips as they sway with each lazy step, Mal trailing behind her like a lost little puppy.

He’s determined not to count her every step, mentally mapping the inside of her apartment as she dances to some song playing on the radio, catching a few lines with one swift movement as her voice belts the lyrics out just enough that he can hear her faintly—ever so faintly—from where he’s perched in a window in the building across from her. He tells himself that he doesn’t want to know what her voice sounds like first-hand, that he’s not curious why she loves _that_ song in particular, replaying the bluesy chords of a love only cherished once it’s too late. _Well, you always used to say I got to you_ , Alina sings, tucking in her shoulders and swaying to the sounds coming from her stereo that Aleksander is certain must be loud enough for her neighbors to hear through the walls, _well, you get to me._

Aleksander Morozova is determined _not_ to watch the curves of her lips, the way her hair falls gently over her shoulder, the way her mouth pulls down into a scowl when Mal does something to piss her off or the way her face lights up when he does something to make her laugh. He will not wonder what it feels like to trail his fingers over the inside of her arm, brushing faintly against her pulse point and curving inward toward her elbow as he leans down and breathes her in. He won’t wonder what she smells like, what she tastes like, what it _feels_ like to have those chocolate brown eyes of hers drag over the length of his body before she stands on her toes to press those soft pink lips against his.

He is there for a very specific reason, for a very specific mission, and it’s not to fall in love with Alina Starkov or imagine what it would be like to bed her or hold her, or any of the many, _many_ fantasies that have passed through his mind in the days that he’s camped out in this empty apartment, watching her through a pair of binoculars or sniper scope. Aleksander Morozova is here to execute Alina Starkov, the daughter of his enemy, at the moment of his choosing. He’s here to punish her parents, those who would stand against his own family and bring their vicious blood feud into the streets of Ravka in a battle that has claimed the innocent as well as the guilty. He is not here to realize that he’s curious about Alina, that he wants to know her, that somehow in the hours that he’s spent wondering about her life and watching her, he’s grown attached to her and is now hesitating to take the shot.

Love is a weakness, he remembers his mother saying more than once, don’t get attached. Aleksander hadn’t bothered to ask what that meant about his own parents’ relationship. That question had been answered for him when his father came to visit and demanded visitation rights. He was found in the river the next day with a bullet in his head. If anything, that should be a lesson to him. Love makes you weak. Love will get you killed. It’s better to satisfy any desires you might have through one night stands or the occasional lover—just enough to scratch that little itch that makes your pants feel too tight and makes your fingers tense rather than squeeze on the trigger.

So, no. Aleksander is _not_ here is to fall in love with Alina Starkov. What he is going to do, he decides, is to put the rifle down, delicately propping it against the wall just beside the large window as if it were a part of himself, a lifeline, that he was afraid he might damage. He’s going to stand there for a long moment, watching her do her morning stretches as her shirt lifts with her raised arms and reveals the smooth skin of her stomach and her belly button and the first curves of her hips. He’s going to watch her make her morning cup of coffee, eat her muffin for breakfast, and pace into the living room to look at who’s calling her cell phone before rolling her eyes.

It must be Mal again, Aleksander thinks, watching her and rubbing his chin gently. He ignores the black hair that’s fallen into his eyes as he considers the number of times Mal’s called her while he’s been watching. It’s gotten so that Aleksander can recognize her reaction from here and _know_ who’s on the other end of the line. He’s watched Mal try to engage her, to flirt with her, to take her to bed.

Malyen Oretsev is very needy, Aleksander thinks, and he doesn’t like him.

It’s this realization that brings Aleksander to his decision—the realization that he doesn’t like Mal and doesn’t want Mal near her, and that he doesn’t fully understand why he feels this way.

It’s only natural, then, that Aleksander needs to step in and investigate the Starkov girl a little more. He has time to kill her when he’s ready. His mother gave him enough room with this job that he isn’t in a hurry, that he gets to choose the specifics of when and how and what it looks like. He had been planning something clean, like a shot to the head from the apartment in the building next door, where he’s currently watching her, although he knows that his mother might prefer something a little more dramatic after what the Starkovs have done to Morozovas.

Now, though, he’s putting out his cigarette, stubbing the last flame and smoke into the filthy ash tray he’s been using for the last week, and grabs his leather jacket, shrugging it on as he turns and makes his way out the front door and down the quiet hallway. For now, he thinks, he’s going to watch and wait for the right moment to say hello.

He’ll get to know her. Become her friend. Maybe, he thinks, he’ll even find his way into her bedroom and get to find out exactly how soft those blue satin sheets are and what it feels like to hear his name on her lips as he takes her in every way imaginable.

Aleksander Morozova has an _excellent_ imagination.

And then he’ll kill her. He’ll leave her there as a present for her parents to find. Hell, maybe he’ll even kill Mal. He hasn’t decided yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are *always* appreciated as I live for external validation.
> 
> And cookies.


End file.
